Another Sunrise
by aterriblebeautyisborn
Summary: A series of ficlets, in no particular order, of Arthur and Morgana through the years.


**DISCLAIMER- I don't own Merlin, etc, etc, etc. **

**I really should be working on my other fanfics, but I've wanted to do this for a while, and this will mainly be something I can write quickly when I need a break from HP. This is a completely random set of one shots revolving around Morgana and Arthur, in no specific order. Some will be moments that happened in the series, some will be original, from both their perspectives, but mainly Morgana's. They'll most likely be on the shorter side, like this one, but I'll probably have the occasional long update. I apologize in advance for any canonical errors I make because I really only paid attention to the Arthur and Morgana (and Gwaine) scenes.**

_"I'd sacrifice my throne for her to see another sunrise" -Arthur Pendragon_

**Alive**

Girls, seven-year-old Arthur Pendragon decided, are not worth the trouble.

At least Morgana certainly isn't.

His father's new ward was as dull a doll and not much more alive than one. She said all the right words when spoken to, but other than that, she had done nothing except gaze out the window since her arrival. All the dolls and various trinkets that Uther had demanded be placed in her bedchamber, that any young girl her age would have adored, were already gathering dust. Even her new wardrobe that brimmed with the finest silks and laces, fit for a queen, was virtually untouched since she was excused from any feast for as long as she desired. There had been a handful of occasions when Uther had managed to coax her into visiting the gardens, but that had only led to her sitting in the manicured grass and staring off into the distance with empty green eyes. The only time she revealed any real emotion was at night, when her screams of terror awoke all of Camelot.

Arthur had already suggested that Morgana was broken and requested to send for a new ward. Uther had not taken kindly to his words.

Still sulking from his earlier scolding, Arthur sank into a chair and glared at the silent Morgana, who had been staring blankly at the same page of her book for the past hour. He knew she had lost her father, and he felt sorry for her, he truly did, but she seemed to always be getting him into trouble. When Uther sent him to act as a guide around the castle, Morgana had declined, and Arthur had been the one to be punished. When Uther had suggested that Arthur play with her, and Morgana had refused, he had been the one to be punished again. Every time Uther even mentioned the name Morgana, Arthur found that there was a lecture for him soon to follow. According to his father, he was never trying hard enough, or never trying at all, and when he did, it was too much too soon for poor Morgana.

It wasn't fair.

A small giggle caused him to snap out of his thoughts and he soon became aware that Morgana was _laughing_ at him.

"What are you laughing at?" Arthur asked crossly, even though he had to admit it was a nice sound. She even looked sort of pretty when she smiled. Her green eyes sparkled, and suddenly, her long dark curls reminded Arthur of a fairy princess.

"You," Morgana said, giggling again. "You look so angry."

"And you find that amusing?" Arthur demanded in his best princely manner, deeply offended by her words. He had thought he looked quite intimidating, even more so as he lifted his chin at an imperious angle, his words so commanding that he fancied it was a very good impression of his father.

But to his annoyance, it made Morgana laugh even harder.

"Yes," she finally managed, gasping for air. "Yes, I do."

"Well, then," Arthur was at a loss for words. No one had ever spoken to him in such a way before, least of all a _girl_. "You're stupid."

Something in Morgana's green eyes flashed, and it was then when Arthur realized that she no longer reminded him of a doll. She was alive, more alive than anyone he had seen before, with pure fire blazing in those shards of emerald. In a rather prim manner, she rose from her chair, but her eyes were still sparking in a way that made Arthur swallow hard. With the grace of a queen, she glided toward him, book still in hand, until she was standing right before him.

Their eyes locked, and in one swift motion, Morgana raised her book, and unceremoniously, dropped it onto his head.

"And you," she said grandly. "Are intolerable."

And with that, she spun on her heel, her skirts swishing as she did so.

Rubbing his head, Arthur stared after her in fascination.

Perhaps Morgana wasn't so dull after all.


End file.
